Untitled submitt one in reviews please
by Mystery Writter2000
Summary: My random little story. What if Charlie had an older sister? What if that sister had an intenses disliking for rich folks and chocolate and has forced to go to the factory with Charlie? Read and find out. Rated for some strong themes of violence, M just t
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I do own Charlene. And if you ppls steal her, you will die!

She stood on the side of the street, glancing around with an almost frantic air. _Where is that dratted brat? He usually stops by here. Damn, he's keeping me from my work! _She stomped a foot and charged forward, her eyes spotting a young boy hurrying across the street. She stopped though, when she realized that he was on his way home already.

She rammed her hands in the pockets of her thin frayed jacket and turned on her heel, heading in the opposite direction. At that time the skies decided to open and let loose more snow. She kicked a stone and bent to pick up a large crate, filled with small cardboard boxes. Groaning under the weight of it, she cursed the snow and the entire town under her breath as she walked up to a house and knocked on the door.

She plastered a smile on her face as the door swung open and an elderly lady answered. "Oh, Charlene! I was wondering where you were with my bread." She proclaimed. "I was getting worried, you're usually very dependable."

"I try ma'am." Charlene replied evenly, setting the crate down and digging through it. "Not just bread today ma'am, milk, eggs, and….and some cabbage." She read from a tag attached to one of the boxes. She hefted the box. "Where would you like it?"

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, my nephew is staying with me, he'll carry it inside." The woman replied. "Richard!" She called inside the house before turning back to Charlene when she heard the woman cough. "Dear, you'd best not stay outside too long. It'd be a shame if you get sick. Soon enough the weather will get warmer and I'll be depending on you to tend to my garden again."

Charlene nodded, forcing a pleasant smile on her face. "It's nothing ma'am, just a slight cough." Her hazel eyes turned toward the inside of the house as a young man about her age, twenty seven, or so walked over.

He had curly black hair and green eyes. He stared at her coldly and took the box, seeming to loathe even the chance that he might come in contact with her. He lifted the box and promptly strode back into the house, saying, "You'd best come in Aunt Kelly, you might catch cold."

The elderly lady smiled and nodded. "I'm coming." She waved to Charlene and went back inside, closing the door softly.

But to Charlene, it was like a gunshot. She clenched her fists and picked up the slightly lighter crate, walking off with a grim determination in her steps. Her upper back length messy auburn hair streamed out behind her in the wind that made snow swirl around her. She continued on much the same way, stopping at houses and leaving the occupants their food deliveries.

A few gave her pocket change for her troubles, but most seemed all too eager to return to the warm inside of their home. At every house Charlene faked a smile and spoke lightly, but as she walked away, her tanned face became darker and darker.

Finally, when the crate was at last empty she started her long trek back to the grocery store where she worked as a delivery girl, then on home. The snow continued to fall, a good amount sticking to her hair and jacket. The wind didn't let up either; it blew against her, cutting right through her jacket and cotton shirt beneath.

"You're late." A voice coldly informed her as she walked in the doors of the small grocery store.

"I'm sorry sir, you know Mrs. Williams, she usually lives alone and she rather likes to talk." Charlene mumbled sitting the crate in the back. "Is there anything else you need me to do?" She kept her eyes lowered.

The rather pudgy balding owner of the store grumbled under his breath. "No. Not for tonight anyway. Come back tomorrow. And remember, I'm not paying you to chat with some old person."

"Yes sir." Charlene replied and stepped back out into the snow, rather than stay inside where the smell of fresh bread made her stomach growl. She picked up the pace once she was back outside.

She paused only once, and that was out of habit. She paused when she crossed the streets that ran in front of the factory. Every time she passed that place she got the chills. There was something creepy about the large plain white building. No one had seen or heard from the owner in several years now. And supposedly no one worked there, since the owner had closed the gates firmly fifteen years ago, and not a soul had seen them open except for the delivery trucks. But yet, it was still running, chocolate was still produced. Though, no one knew how.

Charlene shook her head, continuing on her way, wondering who would want to live in such a place. She didn't slow until she saw a run down shack. "Ah…home sweet home." She grumbled walking up to it. She opened the door and strode in not saying a word.

She heard gasps pf surprise at her sudden arrival. "Oh, Charlene! You're home." A woman looked up from stirring something on the stove. She looked worn and aged, but beneath all the wrinkles gained from living a hard life, she could not have been more than forty-five years old. She smiled somewhat hopefully. "Do you have…anything extra?"

Charlene shook her head slowly. "No. Sorry." She surveyed the rest of the house, which barely had two rooms, and a loft above that made up Charlie's room. Two old men and two old women lay in a bed and looked back at her. Another man sat at the table with the younger boy.

An awkward silence hung over the room. Charlene shuffled her cracked boots and uttered a soft sigh. "Hello everyone." She sat down at the table. "Should I even asked about everyone's day? Dad?"

The other occupants responded with a chorus of hellos. "Uneventful." Her dad said. "Except for this!" He said a little louder, pulling something that was white and plastic out of a pocket. "I thought you would need this Charlie."

The little boy's face broke out in a grin. "It's perfect dad!" He took the piece of plastic and hurried over to a cabinet, pulling out a model of a building made of plastic stuck together. He stuck it on top of a human like figure. "It's perfect for Mr. Wonka's head."

Charlene rolled her eyes. "You're still working on that thing?" She shook her head. "What a waste of time. I don't know what's so great about that place."

"I used to work for him." One of the elderly men spoke up. "Besides, he makes the most wonderful chocolate."

"You did Grandpa Joe?" Charlie asked, pulling a chair over to sit next to his grandfather.

Charlene snorted softly. "I've heard this too many times." She walked over to her mother grumbling softly, "Besides, that place gives me the creeps. I never get chocolate anyway." She smiled at her mother briefly. "Cabbage soup?"

"Yes." She replied shortly. "It's all that we have right now." She hugged Charlene briefly. "How did things go for you?"

"It's cold outside and it's cold inside most people." Charlene said. "I guess that's why Charlie's still in school, so he never has to deal with the cold." She sighed, seeing her mother's sudden pained expression. "Sorry…I'm just tired I guess. Do you need any help with dinner?"

"No, it's alright. Just try not to be too bitter, we are trying."

Charlene nodded, and upon seeing that Grandpa Joe had finished his story she walked back over to the table and sat down.

Charlie looked at her warily when she sat next to him and he got up abruptly to put away his model. Pretty soon dinner was ready and they all gathered around the bed where the elders lay and ate. Charlene held her tongue and made no comment on how much she hated cabbage soup. In fact, most everyone was silent. Grandpa Joe seemed to still be reliving his days when he worked for Mr. Wonka, Charlie too seemed to have his mind else where as he sat eating. Grandpa George grumbled, but even he was hesitant to break the silence.

When the meal was over, Charlie excused himself and climbed the ladder up to his bedroom in the loft above. Charlene helped her mom clean up before retreating to the sheets spread out on the floor in the corner of the kitchen, grabbing a candle, notebook, and pen on the way. She sat on the pile of old blankets with the lit candle by her. The grandparents turned in moments later, and her parents went off to their own bedroom, talking in hushed voices. The only noises in house were that of snoring and the soft scratching of the pen on paper.

As time passed gentle foot falls herald the approach of someone. Charlene snapped the notebook shut and glared up at the intruder, her mother and father. "What is it?" She asked a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"You should get to bed dear." Her mother started. "But…we're also worried about you. You hardly talk anymore unless it's something callous. Poor Charlie thinks you hate him."

Charlene wrinkled her brow. "That's it? No. I don't hate the boy."

"That's not the point. But perhaps envy is a better word for it?" Her father cut in.

Charlene stood, picking up her notebook and pen. "Whatever. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. At least he his parents gave him a chance to better himself. I got dropped like a stone." She pushed by them roughly. "I'm going for a walk. Don't wait up." Her voice was clipped short and cold.

The door swung open and slammed shut as Charlene made a quick exit before she could do something she'd really regret. _This is so stupid. I'm twenty-seven. I should be on my own. I shouldn't have to put up with them anymore!_ She glanced back at the house and blinked, trying to clear her eyes. Had she just seen Charlie looking out the window at her? Had he heard? But no, she didn't see his face anymore.

She spun on her heel and forced herself not to think about it as she strode down the deserted streets in the semi-darkness. She avoided the streetlights for the most part and found a bench that was illuminated by the moon where she could sit.

Soon enough she had forgotten all about seeing Charlie look at her. But he had not forgotten seeing her storm out. He curled up on his bed and sighed, trying to shut out the sound of his older sister and parents arguing, that replayed over and over in his mind. Below him, he heard his parents whisper to each other and Grandpa George make some obscene comment before silence reclaimed hold of the house.

Charlene glanced up from her notebook, hearing the sound of engines. She stared out at the road in front of her as she heard the noise getting louder and louder. Until finally she saw a motorcyclist drive by. She frowned and turned back to her notebook.

But Charlene found it difficult to concentrate because she kept hearing the motorcyclist drive by. Either that or he had several buddies out with him too. _Maybe it's a race or something._ She sighed and shut her notebook, rising to her feet. She walked down the deserted sidewalk, head down staring thoughtfully at the snow beneath her feet. Her chest tightened in a cough, but she forced it back and only cleared her throat slowly.

She saw the house and headed toward it, shivering as the wind picked up and branches knocked against each other. She glanced back at the street as she heard yet another motorcycle and furrowed her brow when she saw it stop and post something on a pole. She paused and started to head toward it when the day caught up to her and she nearly collapsed in her sudden exhaustion.

Charlene quickly made up her mind and slipped into her house without a sound. She dived under her blanket and changed into her nightgown beneath it, pausing now and then to make sure that no one had heard her return. She only heard the steady breathing of the elders, and not a sound from the loft or the bedroom off to the right of the elder's bed.

Satisfied that she was the only person awake, she settled down and put the notebook under her lumpy pillow before drifting asleep.

Author's note: If you review, I will be more eager to update.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I do own Charlene. And if you ppls steal her, you will die!

Charlene rolled over and blinked in the morning light. The house was still mostly quiet, no one had risen yet. She sat up slowly and furrowed her brow at the distant sounds of people making a lot of noise. She grabbed her work clothes and donned them beneath her blankets before casting them aside and standing.

She grabbed a comb that was missing half its teeth and pulled it through her tangled mass of hair. She grimaced as it pulled painfully at her scalp before she tied her hair back in a pony-tail.

"Leaving already?" a voice questioned, surprisingly nearby.

Charlene jumped slightly and turned to her mother, wincing as she thought of how bad she had acted scant hours previous. "Yeah. I got to get there earlier or Mr. Frankish will fire me. Um…" Her voice trailed off as her mother walked by her.

"What about breakfast?" Her mom asked. "No time?" She added when her daughter shook her head. "Alright then. Be careful and I'll see you when you get home." She hugged a rather mystified Charlene and smiled. "No. I haven't forgotten about last night. We'll talk about it later." She finished quickly as a half-asleep Charlie climbed down from the loft.

Charlene nodded and headed for the door. "See you all when I get home. Mornin' Charlie." And with that she left heading for the grocery store at a brisk walk.

The streets were crowded. People were flocking around phone poles and street lights, yammering about something to each other in excited tones. Charlene made her way over and tried to see what had captured everyone's attention. There was a sign posted on the streetlight. Charlene leaned forward, realizing that it was probably what she had seen the motorcyclists posting last night. "Dear people of the world, I Willy Wonka…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes losing their spark of excitement already.

"Can you believe it! He's giving out tickets to visit his factory to five people! Wow!" Someone said as Charlene started to turn away.

"And what about that special prize at the end? I'm going to go get some Wonka Bars now!"

Charlene shook her head ruefully and continued to the grocery store. It was so packed and there was a line to get in that extended far down the sidewalk so she had to go around through the back door to get inside. Once inside she saw all the employees bustling around, trying to supply the demand for chocolate. Mr. Frankish stood at the counter and was staring open mouthed at all his sudden customers.

"I'd like three cases of Wonka bars!" a man shouted so that he would be heard over the racket. Charlene was standing only a few feet away, and even she could barely hear his words.

"Right away!" Mr. Frankish seemed to have broken out of his amazement and he snapped his fingers at Charlene. "You! You heard the man, get three cases right now and help him carry them! Don't stand around gawking!"

Charlene's head snapped and she nodded, hurrying to the back and putting three boxes of the chocolate in the crate she had been carrying the day before. She groaned as she strained to lift it, cursing Willy Wonka and his damn chocolate under her breath as she struggled with it. Who know chocolate could weigh that much.

"Hurry up you!" Mr. Frankish snapped, glaring at her.

Charlene bit back an angry reply and hefted the crate, walking over to the customer with wavering steps. "Where to sir?" She asked, gritting her teeth.

"I don't live far from here, come on." He replied with no compassion at all in his voice. He tapped a foot impatiently, waiting for her to catch up as he headed down the sidewalk outside. "I feel sorry for Mr. Frankish if all his workers are as weak as this one." He grumbled.

Charlene glared coldly at the man's back and almost threw the crate at him, if it wouldn't have cost her so much energy and a job. She settled to glare and continued on, lifting the crate so that it rested on her shoulder. It was a little easier to carry now and she walked faster, catching up to the man.

When he said "I don't live far from here" He must have the impression that living in Japan wouldn't have been far from America. Charlene panted as the man kept walking, on and on. She would have been ok with it, except he was setting a blazing pace and looked extremely unhappy that she could not keep up.

But at last he slowed down and walking up the porch steps of a house, he pulled out keys. He opened the door without a word and led her inside a well-furnished house to a kitchen area where he coldly instructed her to put the boxes. Then he rudely pushed her in the direction of the door and slammed it in her face once she was outside.

Charlene clenched her fists to keep from attacking the door. Instead she scowled at it and spit on his welcome mat before striding away and back to the grocery store empty handed, save for the crate. It was still just as crowded when she got back, if not more so.

Scant seconds after getting back inside she had to go back out with another several cases of chocolate. Thankfully the buyers were honest when they said they lived nearby and she had only to walk as far as the end of the street, the drawback was that she was carrying multiple deliveries, which turned out to be six cases of chocolate.

She groaned as she walked back to the store and saw Mr. Frankish waiting for her impatiently. "C'mon girl! You got work to do, don't stand around."

"Yes sir." She panted and got a drink out of the water fountain in the back before picking up yet another crate full. She heard her back crack as she stooped to pick it up and she winced at the pain that surged through her. But under the watchful eye of Mr. Frankish, she uttered no sound and doggedly carried the crate out of the store to deliver the chocolate.

And so her entire day dragged on. She rarely got more than a five minute break, or a chance to slow down either. She managed to gobble down a quick snack on the way back from a delivery or grab a drink. The streets were as busy as the stores, with people running around trying to get as much chocolate as possible. Charlene shook her head in disgust. These people, all going mad over a chance to see some…

She shivered unconsciously as the shadow from the factory fell over her. She glared at it coolly for making her work so hard. "Stupid factory." She grumbled. "I bet he's inside laughing at everyone because it's just a ruse to boost sales." She considered sending an obscene gesture in its direction. "Well those fools can waste their money on that crap. They'll be crying when they're as poor as us."

Charlene returned the crate to the grocery store, which was starting to die down because they were running out of chocolate. She headed for the door again, arms limp. For a moment she had the absurd fear that she wouldn't even be able to open the door with them.

"Where're you goin' girl!" Mr. Frankish bellowed.

Charlene turned coolly. "You're right. I'm sorry, it's Friday. I get paid today." She turned and walked back over to him.

"You get paid when I say you get paid, girl!" He roared raising a hand as if going to slap her. "You don't go nowhere until I say you go somewhere. We're not closed yet and I might get more orders."

Charlene's shoulder's slumped for a moment before she raised her head defiantly and looked the middle-aged man in the eyes. "I signed a contract. It said when I get paid and when I'm off from work. I get paid on Fridays and I get off at 7:00p.m."

Mr. Frankish's eyes narrowed. "Don't back talk girl!" He brought his hand back before plunging it forward to smack her face, right in the eye. "You do as I say or you'll be looking for another job! I took you in 'cause I felt sorry for you. And you've caused me nothing but problems from the start with your attitude!"

He stopped abruptly and stepped away as the bell that rand when ever the door opened dinged. "How may I he-" he stopped abruptly.

"I'm here to pick up my sister, she's late for dinner." A soft childish voice said.

Relief flooded Charlene's face at the sight of Charlie standing by the door. She almost ran up and hugged him, but dignity stopped her. She blinked back the pain in her eye, which only added to her numerous other aches and held out a hand. "I do believe today's payday sir."

He scowled at her back pulled out her weekly wages and nearly threw it at her. "Go on, get outta my store." He paused. "But you'd better be back early tomorrow and ready to work."

"Yes sir." Charlene said evenly and walked out with Charlie in tow. Once outside she pocketed the money. "Cabbage soup?" She questioned her brother.

"Yes." Charlie looked up at her. "Um. What happened? You're eye's starting to look bruised."

"It's nothing." Charlene tried to smile to convince him. "Hey, what'd you say that we bring home something special since I got paid?"

"I…like what?"

"I don't know. How about…." Charlene paused and walked into one of the smaller and cheaper stores. "Hmm…" She mused looking over her choices. "I think some beef will do, since we haven't had that in a while." She shelled out the cash to buy a pound of almost questionable looking beef. "Not so easy come, but it sure goes fast." She sighed and picked up the beef and carrying out of the store in a bag. It was light, but her throbbing muscles protested the weight. Charlene didn't show her discomfort to Charlie, instead she smiled cheerfully. "Thanks for stopping by, but did Mom and Dad really send you out to get me?"

Charlie kicked a stone and put his hands in his pockets. "Well…no. I…I was wondering why you walked out last night."

The color drained from Charlene's face before coming back as a slight red shade. "Well…I guess I just wanted some time to myself Charlie. You know, I had to figure some stuff out. Don't worry about me though; you focus on your studies." She smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

He nodded slowly, looking into her eyes searchingly. "Yeah. Ok. I was just wondering." He looked back at the road. "You seemed pretty upset. And since you're my sister, I guess I was worried."

She slung an arm around his shoulders, even though he was much shorter than her 5 feet and six inches. "That's alright. I'm touched, really. But I'm alright." She ruffled his hair. "Aren't you such a sweet little kid?" She hoped that her cheery attitude would convince him soon, her face was starting to ache from faking the smiles.

It seemed to have, plus they had arrived back at their home. Charlie jogged a head and opened the door for her, announcing their arrival in the same breath.

"I brought a gift." Charlene said as she walked inside. She smiled at her mom and handed her the meat. "I got paid today." She inhaled the scent of the house deeply and flopped down in a chair, groaning slightly as her muscles gave out.

Her mom regarded her suspiciously. "What happened to your eye? I hope you weren't fighting again. Or did you do something to offend someone?" She barely glanced at the beef, but had already taken part of it and was cooking it.

Charlene narrowed her eyes, flinching as the movement caused pain to shoot through her now black eye. "You don't even ask about my day…you just accuse me of doing something wrong." She would've slammed a fist on the table, but she just didn't have the energy to yell or be angry. "And no. I did not fight anyone. M- Well…let's say someone was a bit overworked."

Her dad say down next to her. "I'd imagine. With that contest going on, every place that sells Wonka bars will be swamped." He examined her closely. "Are you alright?"

Charlene nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'll be fine. It's nothing." She managed a small smile.

"Wouldn't it be something Charlie, to open a bar of chocolate and find a golden ticket?" Grandpa Joe was saying.

Charlie nodded, but he didn't look excited at all. "Yeah. But I only get one bar a year."

Charlene's eyebrow twitched slightly. She stared at the table as if she had to memorize every crevice and knothole on it.

Grandpa George nodded. "The kids who are going to find the golden tickets are the one that can afford to buy candy bars every day. Now Charlie only gets one a year. He doesn't have a chance. Mark my words. The kid to get the first golden ticket will be fat, fat, fat."

Charlie's face remained unreadable.

Charlene frowned and shrugged, wincing as she did so. "I doubt it's ever real. I bet he's just saying that to boost sales. I wouldn't be surprised when in a few weeks; everyone realizes that it's just a ruse."

"Why do you say that?" Grandpa Joe asked. "I worked for him and he seemed like an honest fellow." He made a noise that sounded a lot like, "Humph. And anyways, aren't you interested at all?"

Charlene shook her head violently and looked at her mom almost apologetically as the woman served the members of the family by herself, when normally Charlene would have helped. "Of course not. I wouldn't want to go into some creepy old factory. Besides, all this contest is creating for me is more work to not get sufficiently paid for. I've been lugging around deliveries all day and hardly got any extra money for my work."

Charlene ate with more of an appetite than she usually displayed. "Besides, I haven't gotte-" She stopped abruptly. "I haven't got anymore of a chance than anyone else." She said after a moment's consideration, but she was looking straight at her parents when she said that.

They said nothing, but both seemed to take notice to her sudden change of tone.

"Well, I don't know about anyone else, but I'd give anything in the world just to see that amazing factory." Grandpa Joe said with a note of finality in his voice.

Charlene hurriedly finished eating and retreated to her pile of sheets. She pulled out that same notebook and once again began to write in it at a furious pace. _Is this how my days will go until I die? Working all the time? The days and nights running together, flying by at an alarming pace, running headlong to my deathbed…Will nothing ever change for me?_ She mentally slapped herself. "It doesn't matter."

Charlie stayed up a little bit longer, doing some homework before he went up to the loft after saying good night to everyone. Everyone except Charlene. She had seen him start to head in her direction before staring at his shoes and turning away. Her eyebrows came together for a moment while she watched him climb the ladder to his room. _ Does he really not trust me that much? _She hung her head and rubbed her throbbing temples with one hand. _Perhaps I should do something to make it up to him…_

Charlene stared at her notebook blankly and didn't even react when her parents said goodnight to everyone and retreated to their bedroom. After a bit though she snapped out of her trance and felt more exhausted than usual. She couldn't concentrate on the words she tried to write, they slipped deftly out of her mental grasp. With a frustrated glare she closed the notebook and flopped down on the sheets and promptly fell asleep.


End file.
